


His Eyes See All

by slimysheep



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Deacon & Mac like each other but don't know that yet, Deacon - Freeform, Drinking, IM LATE IM SORRY, It's kinda slow at the start, M/M, Mac gets shot later on, Med-Tek, Mentions of Sole Survivor, My First Work in This Fandom, Panic Attacks, Robert Joseph MacCready - Freeform, Sanctuary Hills, Swearing, There may be smut if i progress, Violence, cute nerds, features Mac's quest and Deacon helping him, getting a grasp on these characters, kinda OOC, sorry if its bad, the beginning is so much better than the rest whoops
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-12 11:54:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15994661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slimysheep/pseuds/slimysheep
Summary: With Deacon's line of work, he had to learn how to read people. Body language, voice fluctuations, and facial expressions were a huge part. Some people were easy to read, others hard, and Mac happened to be one of those people. When he's gets partnered up with MacCready, a man who he thought was a money laundering cap whore seemed to be better than he expected, he remembers to not judge a book by the cover.  He discovers more about the merc's past and current problems, and when Deacon offers to help him, the former gunner seemed to be ecstatic.orMac has a panic attack, Deacon learns of his past & learns about his son & offers to help. Just a sprinkle of gay until later on.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i dont really spell check or read over it usually when im done?? i also listen to music & get sidetracked im sorry if some of this seems rushed or like is inaccurate? whoops lmao

Deacon may have been blunt, but he was very observant, something that was necessary out in the fierce and unforgiving Commonwealth. He had to be, it was part of his job. He tried his damndest to not let anything get past his grips. Observing the battle was one thing, seeing where your enemies were at, what they were using, how many. Always on your guard. Any slight movement or bullet that whizzed past him he watched like a hawk. Remembering how many bullets they fired and when they would reload next, their peeping heads. Observing people was another thing. He’d go as far as to say it was tricky at times. He tried to keep himself composed, not letting his body language speak too clearly. It was too much of a risk placed onto him if they could tell. So he learned to adapt. Some people were easy to read, some difficult.

MacCready was one of those people. He knew little to nothing about his past, not bothering to ask him, as he wasn't needed for a mission. Plus, he really didn't care for him. Annoying, short tempered, and quick to judge. Deacon didn't despise the man, sure, he had some decent skills and was reliable to a fault. So when a nearby settlement required help with a ghoul problem in a subway station, he could see the hesitation before those blue eyes, saw how he wiped his hands on his vest, his breath hitching in his throat. Deacon saw what was happening and even saw him ask Sole to be a replacement, but much to the snipers dismay, she was busy.

The spy poked at it jokingly, seeing if he could get any info out of him. “Not content with the thought of traveling with yours truly?” He grinned but Mac just looked at him, too fast, too shaken up. “Let’s just get this over with,” Mac sighed, looking down at his rifle, avoiding that precious eye contact that spoke much of his predicament. The sniper didn't hate Deacon, it was something about the ferals that set him off in a strange way. Maybe a bad encounter most likely. So it led them to the subway entrance, Deacon trying to lighten the mood. “Think we can hitch a ride on a train?” A look of dissatisfaction in return. 

The spy made his way in, sniper ready behind him. The group made their first contact with a feral, terrifying claws making their way into a gunners chest in horrifying noises. He looked remotely fresh. Deacon held his hand up, signaling to MacCready who had his finger placed upon the trigger. The spy held his gun up and aimed at its head, silencer not attracting anymore unwanted attention. It fell to the ground, dead. One less radiated monstrosity in the world. He progressed down the stairs, another able body following after him.He walked around the station floor, looting anything and anyone that seemed fit. Mac kept watchful eyes, making sure no harm prevailed upon the spy. They’d sure as hell split the loot later, so his interest in the loot didn't spike currently. Further through the subway, they went, it seemed like the ferals never stopped. The duo had received more than a few cuts and scratches, but they saved themselves in the end. They were finally done with the mission, allowing themselves to rest for a few minutes at the most.

A bright light emitted from the terminal room, a creature standing up on its own account once hearing the chatter of the two men. It located the noises and rushed upon them, claws on the ready. MacCready was the first to see, shouting a warning aloud, alerting Deacon. He turned his body, gun aiming at the ghoul. He shot a few rounds into him, but it didn't seem to even react.

It was springing towards Mac. It threw itself onto the sniper's rifle falling to his side, out of reach. He let out a screech, one filled with fear as he felt its ravenous and dirty claws making contact with his hip, digging into the flesh. Deacon’s eyes widened, his pulse quickened and adrenaline rushing. He ran towards Mac, taking out a knife from under his pant leg and thrusting it into the ghouls neck. It fell off of Mac, skittering to get back up again. MacCready, frightened and traumatized, rushed to get back up, crawling away backwards, grabbing his hip and everything else the ghoul had feasted its claws into. Deacon held it down with his shoe and shot a mag into it before it finally fell limp on the ground.

The spy made eye contact with MacCready, whose eyes were red and overflowing with tears. His breathing was erratic, uneven and far too fast. His whole body shaking, and his skin pale. Deacon knew what was going on with him, far too familiar with it in his line of work. MacCready was having a panic attack. The spy threw his gun to the side, rushing to Mac’s side, holding him in his arms gently. He held Mac’s face in front of him. MacCready’s pupils darted everywhere but Deacon’s face and struggled against the grip.

“Hey, Mac, hey,” he tried to make his voice as gentle as possible, and when Robert didn’t respond he kept a tighter grip. “Robert,” he got a good reaction when his eyes locked upon Deacon. “Robert, calm down, you’re okay, it’s dead, I’m here and you're safe,” Mac closed his eyes, trying to steady his breathing. “That’s good Mac, keep it up,” They stayed like that for minutes on end, until the sniper was at peace. “S-sorry,” Deacon’s eyes raised, surprised by what the first words out of his mouth were. “Mac, it's fine. It’s normal...just, if you want to talk about it, I’m here for you,” Robert nodded hesitantly, looking at the ground before wincing in pain while trying to stand up. The claw marks were deep, but nothing a stimpack or two wouldn't handle. Deacon held a hand on his chest, forcing him to lie down, which he obliged to. “I’m gonna do something and you are definitely not going to like it, but the walk to Sanctuary is short,” MacCready looked at him, a sense of confusion in his blue orbs,

That was cut short by a hand swooping under his ass and on his back. Mac gasped, both in pain and shock. His face went a bright shade of red, which he hid by placing his hat further down on his face. Deacon laughed at him, trying to lighten the mood, just a bit. As much as Mac despised what was going on, he gave into it, knowing he’d much rather do this than to walk. The walk back was silent, Deacon checking to see if Mac was right every few minutes, making sure he was conscious and alive. The twos eyes, as much as you could see through his shades at least and they met once Mac caught the hint he was being observed from the spy. He looked away quickly, forgetting that Deacon was carrying him in bridal style all cutesy and stuff. The blood had stopped flowing free from his cut in due time, but it was still sore. He couldn't believe how light MacCready was especially for a man for his age.

Eyes followed the duo as they walked into Sanctuary Hills. MacCready tried to keep his own eyes acast from everyone's, pretending that he was in denial of what was going down. There was sure as hell going to be rumors spreading across the settlement, but he’d make up a false excuse. Deacon nodded his head towards Preston as he made his way into the house, and setting up a bed for MacCready. He set down the light man, leaving to grab some items. Deacon walked back through the doorway, a bottle of whiskey, Med-X and stimpacks being placed upon the night stand. “You doing okay, Mac?” he gave a soft smile, one which the sniper could hardly stand the sight of.

“I-I’m perfectly fine, just a little pain. Just give me the bottle, Deac,” he obliged, and Mac snatched the bottle from his hand before opening it skillfully and quickly, before downing the quick gulps. “Fu-frick...this day was a lot to handle, man,” he spoke, not really too much to Deacon, but just in general. The stimpack pierced the flesh, tending his wound and mending it nearly instantly. A relieved sigh left MacCready’s lips. “That feels so much better, thanks,” he murmured out, eyes closed. Deacon stared at him, taking in his relaxed features, much different from his scowling expression that plays on his face more constantly than not. “Your savior provides,” He said, his head high, a prideful smirk playing on his face. MacCready for a second wishes he already passed out but he gives a small, sincere chuckle.

“You’re a good person, Deacon, don't let anyone say otherwise,” MacCready said before his eyelids grew heavy and began to sleep. Deacon was left in the room, face flushed before taking a minute to compose himself before walking out the door


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorta filler !!! i guess. might add a smut chapter which probs wont be important to the story, but im a horny diaster fight me. ALSO.. i dont remember writing this n stuff so.. i didnt proof read lmao wHOOPS

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The sniper woke up with a crude ceiling above his head. He sat up, frantic. The room was near bare but his eyes laid upon a bottle of alcohol on the nightstand. The swigs calmed him down, but it sure as hell wasn’t helping him remembering the happenings of last night. He remembered the glowing ghoul but he couldn't recollect much else. Just like every other night. His hands ghosted the scratches that the ghouls have left, but he only left raised flesh; a scar, most likely. Long legs lay off the bedside, only moving when they walked on out of the room and towards the outside. His only clothes that he was wearing was a white T-shirt, blood littering the end and his signature jeans. He was aware his clothes weren’t in the room with him, so he needed to find them somehow.

He guided himself along the walls of the broken and beaten down house before walking out of the main doorway. The light was definitely not welcoming, but it greeted him with a beaming glow as he stepped out of the house, familiar faces greeting him. Preston seemed to stifle a giggle along with the rest of the settlement once they saw him. MacCready didn’t understand what they were laughing at, looking behind him questionably. Him apparently. Sole greeted him with a hug, something that greatly shocked Mac. It wasn’t everyday that someone warmly embraced him. She tightened her grip on him before speaking up. “God, you had me concerned, Mac, be more careful out there,” he tilted his head in confusion. “You...you don’t remember do you? Oh, my god!” She giggled everyone following suite because apparently their private conversation was now something to laugh at. Mac scowled, feeling out of the know and oblivious.

“Deacon, he carried you here like a newlywed couple! He carried you like a baby. He said you were as light as a feather and that you wrapped your arms around his neck. You were so embarrassed, you had your hat covering your face,” everyone shared a laugh, mainly Sole who thought it was the funniest thing she’s heard in a while. MacCready, the high held, short tempered and fierce small hired gun was being carried like a baby by Deacon. He felt himself flush heavily, reaching for his hat to hide his red face, but it wasn’t there and he just tangled fingers into his hair. “Y-you didn’t see that! Deacon lied about that!” He thought of the most desperate excuse, but he was aware that everyone knew. “Keep telling yourself what you need to, ‘Cready,” Sole patted him on the back. “Your savior is at The Third Rail, he didn’t leave you yet,” She winked at him and he went even more red. They all left him alone after teasing a bit.

MacCready went back to his own room, not the guest room, which kept half of his belongings. He opened up the nightstand, reaching out for one of his many Grognok comics, the first one, reading the series once again. It’s a wonder how he managed to keep them in perfectly good contact all these years. Surely it was a mystery, but Mac was pleased that he had something to read whenever he was bored. Grognok was the main reason he was motivated through the tough times, as embarrassing as it was to say. He lay in the bed, at peace with reading his comics in silence. It was comforting at the most. He was getting tired, eyelids growing heavily, even after sleeping from a while ago. He placed it on his face and let sleep over take him.

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Days past, maybe a week, hell if MacCready knows. He wanted to thank Deacon for literally saving his life, but he wasn’t showing up around Sanctuary so the days dragged on long, Mac mentally cursing him, frustrated that that was the only thing that he really needed to get done. He helped out neighboring settlements in his mean time alone, disappearing for days much like Deacon, but no one really knowing where Mac was going. The hired gun had to admit, it was lonely and not the same adrenaline rush with his spy partner helping him out. After being with Sole and Deacon, he felt unsafe and naked with no one watching his back. He got rid of raiders and The Gunners who were harassing the settlements. He reported back to them, not really expecting a cash reward, but getting one instead, which he didn’t really oppose to.

Walking back into Sanctuary, he didn’t expect Deacon to be the first person to greet him. “Rj! Good to see you in the land of the living and well!” He walked towards MacCready looking disdainful. Deacon embraced Mac, who hesitantly hugged him back, not used to this level of human contact. “You don’t have to be so awkward, RJ,” Mac scowled at the nickname, not even knowing where Deacon had heard his full name, considering he only referred to himself as Maccready. “Don’t call me that,” he grumbled out, looking at the ground, a pout playing upon his face. Deacon only left a laugh in the air. “Well, partner, Sole sent me on a two person mission and right now, I’m missing my 1 up…” he offered, pride just dripping off his tongue wonderfully. MacCready smiled, placing his hand over his mouth. “God, you’re such a nerd. But I’ve been missing structure…” Deacon coughed into his elbow, hiding a part of his flushed face, “Glad to keep you up on that offer,”

Maccready looked at him, smirking. “Lead the way, why don’t you?” He placed his rifle on the back and followed Deacon as he made his way over the bridge and through the Commonwealth


End file.
